


The Holiday

by JeannetteRankin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Gift Fic, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 08:13:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1143635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeannetteRankin/pseuds/JeannetteRankin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From <a href="http://kittenbeanie.tumblr.com/post/68640360523/whatladybird-wait-have-we-discussed-dean-cas">this prompt</a>: Cas needs to get out of town after a nasty breakup, so he switches houses for Christmas with a Sam Winchester and at first he thinks it's going to be a quiet vacation, but then Sam’s brother drunkenly knocks on the door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Holiday

**Author's Note:**

> [deancasweek](http://deancasweek.tumblr.com/) secret santa gift for [kittenbeanie](http://kittenbeanie.tumblr.com) (check out her blog, you guys, it's great and her art is adorable!) I saw that you had re-blogged this prompt and I thought it was way too cute not to do! Hope you enjoy. Happy Holidays!

When Castiel impulsively rents a stranger's house halfway across the country for a vacation, he isn't expecting anything exciting or surprising to come of it. In fact, he just wants to put the events of the past few days behind him and find somewhere peaceful where he can spend Christmas. A little time alone and a chance to get away from this house that's so full of memories is exactly what he needs.

Arriving at the townhouse in one of Minneapolis's nicer neighborhoods, Castiel thinks that he's found exactly what he's looking for. There's a sweet note in the entryway welcoming him to their home, inviting him to help himself to whatever he wanted, and asking him to put food out for the cat. Signed, “Happy Holidays, Sam & Jess” The townhouse is small, but snug and homey, decorated in rich colors. If the furniture isn't top-of-the-line, it's tasteful and comfortable. 

Glancing around the kitchen, after admiring the tile work and clever organization of the cooking space, his eyes catch on the wine rack sitting on the far end of the counter. He pulls out a bottle of red wine and turns it over in his hand. The note did say to help himself. 

*

Castiel is getting drunk with the cat and cheerfully telling it how he plans to spend the week catching up on reading and depleting his hosts' stock of wine when the first unexpected thing happens.

An insistent ring of the doorbell proves to be not charity collectors or evangelists, but rather a very drunk man who introduced himself as “Dean, Sammy's brother.” When it becomes clear that this stranger is indeed related to the owners of the house, and also that he's in no condition to get home on his own, Castiel invites him inside.

Dean drunkly slouches onto the sofa, his body denting into what is clearly His Spot in his brother's house. He starts calling Castiel “Cas”, and talks him into breaking out the hard liquor. They talk, and drink, and since he's slightly better company than the cat, Castiel doesn't mind. He enjoys hearing Dean's stories about his brother, and the Christmases of their youth.

Over their second round of whiskey, more facts about this man become evident. One, that's he's extremely attractive. And two, that he has terrible boundaries when he's drunk.

Castiel has Dean's arm, quite a nice arm he has to notice, slung over his shoulder, and warmth pressed all along his side, and the smokey taste of the whiskey burning pleasantly down his throat, when Dean slurs out, “But why are you here?”

“I told you,” Castiel says indignantly. “I found it on the internet, they put the place up for short term--”

“No.” He's interrupted by a loose shake of the head. “I mean, why would you want to come stay in a stranger's house, alone, at Christmas?”

“Normally, I'm not sure if I'd want to share that information. But given the circumstances, namely that we might not either of us remember this in the morning, I guess I don't mind. A week ago, I discovered my 'boyfriend,'” he says the word in air quotes. “Of three years had been cheating on me, extensively and rather creatively. I asked him to leave our house. Naturally we'd had Christmas plans, but I didn't like the idea of staying in that house alone for the holiday, staring at his oh-so-tastefully decorated Christmas tree. So I came here.”

“That sucks,” was Dean's trenchant observation.

After a moment's contemplation, Castiel had to admit the truth. “Yes, it does.”

Castiel tells him all the details, more than he should, really. But Dean just nods along, and makes sympathetic noises, and tells him about sucky break-ups of his own.

Eventually their words wind down, and Castiel notices again how close they are, Dean's arm still around him, their faces quite close now. That look of understanding--somewhat muddled, but still obviously suffused with kindness--on Dean's face.

A terrible, impulsive part of Castiel's brain, let loose by wine and probably self-pity, seizes control. He grabs Dean's face, leans in, and kisses him. It's a good kiss.

*

The following morning, it's Castiel's own recent actions that surprise him. He wakes up later than his usual time, with an awful headache, and makes his way to the kitchen for coffee. He's stopped short by the sight of Dean, standing in the kitchen, serenely operating the coffeemaker. The soft light from the windows strikes off the white tiles of counters, stabbing Castiel's brain through his eyeballs.

“Good morning,” Dean greets him, sounding chipper.

“Good morning,” Castiel answers in some confusion. Had he had sex with this stranger last night? That was not at all like him. He's the careful, conscientious type. One-night-stands are definitely not his thing.

He accepts a cup of rich-smelling coffee from Dean and sits at the little kitchen table, gingerly rubbing his temples.

“So,” He begins when Dean doesn't seem disposed to start the conversation. “This is somewhat embarrassing, but did we,” He pauses. Dean raises an eyebrow and smirks at him from behind his coffee cup. The smirk provokes Castiel to be explicit. “Did we have sex last night?”

Why is he a little disappointed when Dean tells him that no, they didn't. “We were about half naked when you decided that it wasn't a good idea to, what was it you said? 'Indulge in carnal whims.' So I crashed on the couch.”

“Right. Good.” Castiel tells him, feeling unprepared for this conversation and at a disadvantage.

“Yeah,” Dean tells him. 

Dean's phone, sitting on the table right in front of Castiel, rings.

Castiel can't help but glance at the phone display as he picks it up to hand it to Dean. Ben, says the little screen.

“Gotta take this,” Dean says, apologetically, ducking out the kitchen door into the backyard.

He twitches the curtain aside to watch, discreetly, in spite of the sunlight still hurting his eyes. Dean is animately talking to Ben, face full of affection. He glances up and looks straight into Castiel's eyes. Embarrassed again, Castiel lets the curtain fall and ducks away.

It would be quite ridiculous to be disappointed. Of course someone like Dean already has a boyfriend.

*

Dean departs shortly after his phone call, and Castiel spends the day restlessly drifting around the house, feeling a vague dissatisfaction that doesn't leave him, even when his hangover eventually dissipates.

Finally, at nine o'clock that night, thoroughly disgusted with himself, he tosses aside the book he's been failing to read for the past three hours and gets ready to go out. 

He may have no history of being impulsive in romantic matters, but he's also able to recognize the truth about himself when it's staring him in the face. And he's definitely not going to sit around pining for a man who is probably, at this very moment, sitting in the bar down the street that he told Castiel he loves to frequent when he gets the chance.

Castiel puts his game face on when he reaches the bar's front door. He's going to go in there, convince Dean to have sex with him--boyfriend or no boyfriend--and get this out of his system. This is a,a re-bound, is what it is. He's read about them.

Dean is, in fact, sitting at the bar when Castiel walks in. For a moment, he watches as Dean exchanges friendly words with the bar tender. He likes the way that Dean's eyes crinkle at the corner when he smiles. That's a normal re-bound thought, isn't it?

Then Dean turns around and spots Castiel, and his whole face lights up, eye crinkles in full force, looking like his day just got a million times better just because Castiel walked through the door.

The evening involves far less alcohol than the previous one did. It turns out that it's not so hard to convince Dean to come back to the house with him, and suddenly carnal whims seem like a very good thing indeed. He pushed Dean up against the wall of the vestibule as soon as they're inside. His kisses are soft and warm, and containing more real, honest affection than Castiel has felt in a very long time.

Even though Dean declines to go upstairs to bed--“ew, man, that's my brother's bed, no way.” They end up tumbling onto the couch together naked. Castiel wants as much of Dean's naked body as he can get his hands on; it's the best thing he can remember feeling in a long time.

Afterwards, curled up on the couch, squished together, he wonders if this plan to get Dean out of his system really went so well after all.

*

The next surprising thing is not Castiel's fault at all. There is no way he could possibly have anticipated what he finds when he stops by Dean's house the next day to return his leather jacket.

Dean had left the jacket behind the previous night, and left—after morning sex and breakfast—putting his number in Castiel's phone and kissing him goodbye. When Castiel had noticed the jacket, later that afternoon, he'd texted Dean offering to drop it off, and Dean had sent him his address.

The door is opened by a young boy, about eight years old, who looks up at him with wide brown eyes and asks “Who are you?”

“My name is Castiel, and I'm a--” he's interrupted by Dean's coming up to the door.

“Oh, hey, Cas, come on in. Ben, meet my friend Cas. Cas, this is Ben.”

This is Ben. Ben is an eight-year-old and Dean has a kid.

Castiel is an idiot.

He comes in and Dean makes small talk. Castiel gives him the jacket, and Dean asks him to come in for a drink. The next thing he knows, he's being invited to stay for dinner; Dean is cooking.

While Dean is busy at the stove, Ben turns a speculative look on Castiel. “Can I show him the pillow fort?” Dean assents and Castiel finds himself being led into the living room, where there is a most impressive fort, taking up about a quarter of the room, strategically positioned next to the Christmas tree. Ben leads him inside, where it's comfortable and well-appointed, if barely high enough for Castiel to sit upright.

“This is the most structurally sound pillow fort I've ever seen,” He says, admiringly.

“Yeah, it's the best! Dad helped me build it.” Ben talks about his father with obvious pride, and it's easy to see why.

“You and your dad must spend a lot of time together.” He can see the easy rapport between father and son that's not like anything in his experience of his own family.

“Yeah, but he needs grownup time, too. That's why it's good you're here.”

“Oh?” Castiel has no idea what an eight-year-old would understand of his and Dean's fling. Assuming it was a fling.

“Uncle Sam explained it to me. No matter how great their kid is, grownups still need to spend time around other grownups. It's like having a dog, right? No matter how much you take good care of it, it's still gonna want to go to the dog park and play with other dogs sometimes.”

“The dog park. Right.” Castiel blinks, trying to absorb this information. “So you don't mind, if your father and I...go to the dog park together?”

“I don't mind. I think it's good for him.”

“Oh, that's good. You're a very wise young man, you know.”

“I know,” Ben says, rolling his eyes as if Castiel has said the most obvious thing in the world. “So, after dinner, I'm gonna ask Dad if you can come with us to Santaland tomorrow, and you have to say yes.”

“Alright.” Castiel doesn't want to argue against a determined eight year old. And spending another day with Dean, even in family-friendly Christmas activities, doesn't seem like a hardship at all.

Later, once Ben is in bed--arrangements for the three of them to go to Santaland duly made--Dean gives Castiel a beer and leads him into the study.

“Guess you were surprised to see Ben, huh?” Dean asks.

“It was startling, yes. I don't understand why you didn't mention him.”

Dean rubs the back of his neck with one hand, looking self-conscious. “It wasn't like I didn't want to tell you, I just ...I'm bad at talking about this.”

“You don't have to. I understand.”

“It's been three years since Lisa died, and my life has just been crazy, you know? Single parenthood is not as much fun as they make it look on Gilmore Girls.” Dean takes a long drink of his beer. “Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't trade Ben for anything. But my life turned upside down. I'm busy all the time between work and spending time with him. And it's terrifying and I feel like I'm fucking it up every day. So Ben goes to spend a few days with Uncle Bobby and that's the only time I get to feel like I'm normal, like I can go out and have a few drinks and try to remember what it's like to be a regular person. I haven't been able to look at anyone in three years, not since Lisa, and then you,” he gestures to Castiel, “This great guy just drops in out of freakin' nowhere, and you're hot as hell and I actually like you, and I don't even know what to do with that. So, yeah.”

“You like me?” Castiel's brain stuck on that. He knows there were earlier parts of the speech that were soul-baring and important, but this one seems vital to have clarity on. “You think I'm … great?”

Dean laughs. “Yeah, I do,” He says, looking at Castiel with a kind of frankness that's almost alarming.

“I like you, too,” he blurts out before he can think about it. The honesty in Dean's face demands a response. “And I don't blame you for not telling about Ben right away. I'm glad I got to meet him at all. I know this,” he gestures back and forth between them, “is something weird, and complicated. But I like you, Dean. A lot.”

Dean kisses him for that. Castiel makes one more valiant attempt to have a conversation about what it is that's going on between them, that thirty-six hours ago he thought was a one night stand and now involves meeting Dean's kid, but Dean has very effective methods of distraction, and they don't get any more talking done that night.

*

Santaland turns out to be much more fun than anticipated. Ben is still at the age where he can be honestly impressed by animatronic Christmas displays, and every time he gets that look of wonder, Castiel looks at Dean and sees the joy reflected there.

They wind up eating way too many sweets, and coming home in the afternoon to take a long nap. Castiel gets invited to nap with Dean.

It's one of the happiest days in Castiel's recent memory. 

*

The next few days he spends joining in Dean and Ben's holiday preparations. He helps make popcorn strings and Christmas cookies. Dean enlists his aid to wrap presents and makes him “grown-up” egg nog after Ben goes to bed. 

He and Dean have spectacular sex.

He learns a lot more about both father and son. Dean tells him about their life, about Lisa, and about how much it tore him up inside to lose her. “It was a totally shitty time. Ben was a wreck. He was too young to understand that she wasn't coming back. Sam and Jess actually moved here then. They gave me some bullshit line about low cost of living and the Minnesota job market, but I know it was for us.”

Castiel in turn tells Dean about the Christmases growing up in his house, holidays that were all about putting on a good show and sending a pretty Christmas card photo to their friends, but lacking in any warmth or real affection. “We did have lovely family photos. You just can't see the shouting matches and mother's drinking problem and the fact that father was gone three hundred days a year in them.”

Dean confesses to him one night that he's not sure if he's Ben's biological father. “Lisa was dating around a lot back then, hell, so was I. I didn't know Ben existed till I came back through town a few years later and rolled up at Lisa's door. Just picture my face when she opened the door holding a toddler who looks exactly like my baby picture. Damn,” Dean shakes his head, smiling at the memory. Lisa had offered to have them tested, but Dean tells Castiel he didn't care. From the moment he saw them together, he knew they were his family, blood or no.

“Ben doesn't know?”

“I'll tell him some day. But not till he's old enough to really understand that it doesn't make a difference. I just don't want him to doubt that he's my kid.”

Castiel can feel the webs of affection growing tighter around him. The longer he spends here, the less happy he is about the thought of ever leaving.

*

One thing that really shouldn't have surprised him was this conversation. He's been so happy, and his regular life has seemed so far away, that he's let himself drift, without worrying about anything. That all comes to an end when Dean turns to him and asks an innocent question.

“Do you want to go to the Zoo with us on Saturday?”

Castiel feels his heart sink. He coughs. “My plane ticket is for Thursday,” he says. It's hard to believe of all the topics of conversation they've gone through in the past week, they've avoided this one.

Dean stares at him like it's never occurred to him that Castiel would have to leave. Castiel stares back, unable to come up with anything to say. This has been an idyll, and now it's going to be over, and it shouldn't make his heart ache like it's burning away inside his chest.

They go back to the show they were watching for a few minutes, as if nothing's wrong. Then, all at once, Dean sits up and turns the TV off.

“Cas, I'm just going to go ahead and say it. You can think I'm an idiot, I don't care.” The words seem to hurt Dean as they come out of his mouth. “The truth is, I don't want you to go.”

“You know I have to. My whole life is in Raleigh, Dean, my career, everything.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean says, turning away, shoulders tense. “Fine, I get it. All that stuff's important. So why are we even having this conversation?”

“I don't want to break up.” Castiel clasps Dean's arm and turns him around to face him. He lets it all show on his face. His terrifyingly strong feelings for this man, even after knowing him for such a short time, his shock at finding himself swept away. He tries to tell Dean without words that he wants whatever Dean will give him.

“How can we be together, if we're not even in the same city?” Dean holds onto Castiel's shoulders and looked straight into his eyes, the little crease between his brows deepening. “Tell me how that's going to work, Cas.”

“I don't know.” 

*

It's not like they're never going to see each other again. There's phones, and email, and skype, and naked skype. And frequent flyer miles. The final surprise of this whole astonishing vacation is the absolute certainty with which he knows that this relationship is worth fighting for, no matter what the obstacles. 

Castiel says goodbye to Ben, who gives him a “goodbye high-five” and helps him bring his bags to the door.

Dean hugs him tight, almost crushing him. Castiel hugs back and holds on. Finally, Dean is the one to let go first.

“Call me when your plane lands.” Castiel rolls his eyes a little, but reassures Dean for the thousandth time that flying is perfectly safe, and promises he will call anyway.

Without letting himself say any more tearful goodbyes, Castiel walks out the door.

He's been in the taxi for ten minutes when he suddenly tells the driver to turn around.

As soon as they pull up back at the curb of Dean's house, he jumps out and runs up to the door. He doesn't even bother knocking, just opens it and calls out, “Dean!”

Dean is red-eyed, as if he'd been crying. “Cas?” He says, scratchily, tenuously.

“I thought maybe... I could re-schedule my flight, and stay for New Years?”

Then Dean's laughing and hugging him again and there are definitely tears now. Castiel hadn't known that love could hurt like this and feel so good at the same time. None of their problems are solved, and the future is still a mystery. But they're here right now, and for now, that's enough.


End file.
